


it can wait

by angstonly



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 4 + 1, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24893194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstonly/pseuds/angstonly
Summary: Except none of them are Doyoung, who knows Taeyong more than he sometimes knows himself, who understands Taeyong even when words fail him and all that speaks are the tears that stream down his face. Doyoung is in a university hundreds of miles away, and he took a piece of Taeyong's heart with him.(or: the four times doyoung was there for taeyong, and the one time taeyong shows his gratitude in the best way possible)
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 18
Kudos: 164





	it can wait

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote part of this when i was drunk and decided to expand it a little bit :D not proofread bc i spent all night writing and it's now 8am lmao

— **ONE**.

It's loud. It's too fucking loud. Everyone's trying to talk to him, ask him questions, yelling and shouting and nonstop chatter. It's too loud. Too overwhelming. It's all too much. This is what happens when you're the new kid among peers who've known each other since they were barely able to walk. All eyes are on him.

"You guys are so annoying. Leave him alone."

Taeyong releases a shaky breath as the vultures disperse, muttering displeasure as they go back to their own desks. He looks up from his notebook, meaningful gaze directed at his savior, who offers him a lopsided smile in return.

It's brief, barely noticeable, gone as soon as it appears.

Taeyong wants to thank him, but the teacher walks in just as he's about to. He supposes it can wait until after class.

He knows that boy, though. It's hard not to. Kim Doyoung is a name everyone knows. His reputation precedes him—intelligent, responsible, pragmatic. The teachers love him, wish the rest of the students were more like him. It's an intimidating stature to have, one that makes most of their peers nervous.

Taeyong finds it admirable.

(And okay, maybe he's a little nervous too.)

— **TWO**.

High school flies past them in such a blur.

It feels just like yesterday when Taeyong had first moved into the city, when Doyoung first saved him from the vultures who hound him with questions every chance they get. When he thinks back to it, he can't help but laugh. Things have changed so much since then.

He told Doyoung some time later that he wanted to talk to him that same day, but he had left before Taeyong had a chance to. It's a funny anecdote they share, something they think back on fondly. (Doyoung told him much later that he left in a rush because his bladder was failing him.)

Senior year isn't as fulfilling as some people like to say it is. Taeyong's parents tell him it's a time to hold onto, a time to have fun. It's his final year of high school, and he should embrace it. It will be gone sooner than he realizes.

In theory, it sounds great. In reality, it's absolutely impossible.

Senior year to him is drowning in college applications, agonizing over which version of his essay to submit, cursing every university that still thinks standardized tests have any kind of bearing on academic success. He stares at the checklist Doyoung made for them, groaning at every item still waiting to be checked off. Deadlines are fast approaching, and there's still so much left to do.

Taeyong leans back against his chair, sighing as he looks over at the framed picture of Doyoung and himself sitting on his desk. Doyoung has probably already finished his applications. He's amazing like that, always on top of things, always ten steps ahead. Taeyong pulls his drawer open and takes a small box out, small smile on his lips.

In the box is a post-it note, Doyoung's scribble on the surface. He gave it to Taeyong back when they were freshmen, when they had first begun getting to know each other. He was in awe of Doyoung's work ethic, how focused he is when he sets his mind on something. He didn't know yet at the time—all the stress Doyoung is under, how unnecessarily high his standards for himself are, his debilitating fear of failure.

His smile grows as he reads over the note.

_Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Repeat._

He quickly places the note back into its box when he hears his Doyoung's voice speaking to his parents. He sticks the box back into his drawer before scurrying out of his room, blinking at his best friend's sudden appearance. It's already pretty late on a school night, and Doyoung usually isn't allowed outside past 7pm.

"My Taeyong senses were tingling," Doyoung says as they go to Taeyong's room. "So I asked my parents if I could sleep over tonight, and they said yes!"

"I don't know what's more surprising—you having Taeyong senses or your parents saying yes."

Doyoung laughs as he takes his place on Taeyong's bed. "Listen, I just had this feeling that you're stressing again. I'm here to remind you to breathe. Come on, it's snuggle time."

Taeyong pauses, glancing at the work on his desk. "I still have stuff to do, Doie. I still need to—"

"It can wait, Yong," he says. "For now, relax. Come on, don't leave me hanging."

Taeyong's heart flips at the sight of Doyoung with his arms outstretched toward him. When Doyoung looks at him like that, it's impossible to say no. So Taeyong relents and crawls into bed, settling himself in Doyoung's arms.

He smiles as he closes his eyes, calmed by steady heartbeats and a boy named Kim Doyoung.

— **THREE**.

He's met a wonderful group of people in uni thus far, guys who feel like family from the moment they said their first hellos. His roommate is an international student from Japan, and it takes them only one minute to feel assured that they'll get along splendidly. The difference in their hygienic habits are a little more difficult to reconcile, but they eventually find themselves in a happy medium.

Through Yuta, he meets Johnny, who then introduces him to Kun and Ten. Just like that, an inseparable group is born, and he wouldn't want it any other way.

Except none of them are Doyoung, who knows Taeyong more than he sometimes knows himself, who understands Taeyong even when words fail him and all that speaks are the tears that stream down his face. Doyoung is in a university hundreds of miles away, and he took a piece of Taeyong's heart with him.

So when Taeyong gets his heart broken, none of them can console him the way he knows Doyoung would be able to.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Yuta asks as he sits on Taeyong's bed. The group wanted to take him out for a night of drinking to get his mind off of things, but Taeyong doesn't have it in him to abandon his plush blankets and the ice cream still waiting in their freezer. "I can stay with you if you need me to."

"You have shimmery eyeshadow and heavy eyeliner on," Taeyong points out with a smile, though his eyes are still stinging and tired from his tears. "It's insulting that you would even offer to stay here when you're looking this hot. Go, Yuta, I'm okay. I just need to be alone."

It takes another couple of minutes until Yuta finally agrees to go, and one more reassuring smile until he actually leaves. As soon as the door closes, Taeyong allows his feelings to overcome him, crying into his pillow over a love failed before it even had a chance to begin. It's pathetic and sad, and Taeyong hates how much it hurts.

He hears the door click open, and he sits up and quickly wipes on his tears. "Yuta, I told you I'm—"

When he turns towards the entrance, his heart leaps to his throat. In the darkness is a silhouette. Unmistakable. Faint light hits his face. He's greeted by half a smile and glowing skin.

His tears pour. Doyoung rushes to his side and winds his arms around him.

"My Taeyong senses were tingling," Doyoung answers before he even gets a chance to ask, "so I got in my car and drove. I'm here, Yong. I got you."

Taeyong sobs as Doyoung holds him tightly, overwhelmed by both his own sadness and the solace he finds in his best friend's presence. Doyoung whispers assurances in his ear, telling him it's okay to cry, to completely fall apart.

"I'm here," Doyoung says, fingers stroking his hair as they sink under the covers. Taeyong snuggles close to him, eyes shut tight, basking in the warmth of Doyoung's embrace.

"Don't you have class tomorrow? Work to do?"

"It can wait," Doyoung says. "You're more important."

Taeyong can't help but smile despite his tears. He realizes at that moment that Doyoung is always here, without fail, when Taeyong needs him the most. Even without having to ask, even without having to say anything, Doyoung is always here.

And he realizes at that moment that every time his heart breaks apart, Doyoung's smile easily glues it back together.

— **FOUR**.

The room is quiet as Taeyong stares up at his ceiling, fingers laced together as his hands rest on his stomach. He can hear the clock ticking—loud and imposing, deafening in the absolute silence of his room. Taeyong wonders if this is what clocks are really for—audible indications of time passing by, of everything slipping through his fingers in a matter of seconds. How dramatic.

He sneaks a glance. It's half past midnight, half past his retreat into his room to find time to breathe. To unwind. To let his stresses go.

At least, that's what he intended to do.

He sighs as he closes his eyes. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Repeat. He does this a couple of times, focusing on the way the air fills his lungs, the way his belly rises and falls where his hands are resting with every inhale and exhale. Like this, he can feel how hard his heart is beating. Loud. Fast. Begging to be noticed.

There's too much going on. His thoughts are too loud. Even in the silence, his voice is screaming in his head. Stress. Responsibilities. Balance. Grad school is exhausting. What does he do? Where does he go? Taeyong ignores his own thoughts, hoping that if he ignores it enough, it'll quiet on its own.

It doesn't.

The door creaks open, light peeking through the crack before disappearing as the door closes. The footsteps are light. Not careful, though. Not wary. Not hesitant in the least.

It's Doyoung. It could only ever be Doyoung.

He says nothing. Taeyong doesn't flinch even as his bed dips from Doyoung's weight as he crawls under the covers. He doesn't flinch even as Doyoung winds an arm around him and pulls him close. He lies still.

"My Taeyong senses were tingling," he then says. A smile ghosts on Taeyong's lips.

"I'm tired," says Taeyong. He shifts on his side, eyes landing on Doyoung's silhouette, face illuminated by moonlight. He's beautiful.

"I know," answers Doyoung. He looks back at Taeyong, unwavering, gazing into dark brown eyes filled with every emotion kept unspoken. Taeyong never could hide anything from Doyoung.

"I have to work on my dissertation," Taeyong whispers. His fingers graze Doyoung's. Tentative. Unsure. His skin feels like it's on fire.

"It can wait another night." Doyoung's hand rests on the dip of Taeyong's waist. Gentle, but firm. Almost as though telling Taeyong he's not going anywhere. He won't leave until Taeyong rests.

"Okay," Taeyong relents after a beat of silence. His eyes close, his own finding purchase on Doyoung's hip. He scoots closer, and Doyoung wraps his arm around him.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Repeat. Doyoung taught him this back in high school. His eyes open, and he sees the faintest of smiles on Doyoung's lips. He recognizes it, Taeyong is sure.

The ugly voice in his head quiets. In its place is Doyoung's.

_Breathe, Yong. You're okay. When the world feels like it's going too fast, pause. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Repeat._

Taeyong smiles as he closes his eyes again. With a soft voice, he says, "Thank you, Doie."

He doesn't need to look to know Doyoung is smiling when he responds with a simple, "Anytime."

Taeyong's heart beats hard. Loud. Fast. Shouting Doyoung's name with every beat against his chest. He doesn't mind. Doyoung has always made a home in his heart, a permanent space that's for him and only him.

— **PLUS ONE**.

Doyoung doesn't like running. He's more of a leisurely walk kind of guy.

But when Taeyong texts him an "I need you," there's no time for a leisurely walk. So here he is, running to Taeyong's as fast as he can, uncaring of how disheveled and unkempt he looks. His hair is matted to his forehead, and he's still in his pajamas, feet in mismatched socks because he didn't bother slipping into shoes.

His mind is going a hundred miles an hour, lips pressed into a thin line as he thinks of what could have possibly happened. Taeyong never tells him he needs him unless it was dire, unless it was an emergency that required immediate attention. It's their code, their way of telling each other when things are just that bad.

Doyoung reaches Taeyong's door and quickly keys in the code, out of breath but still determined to be there for his best friend the same way Taeyong's always been there for him. He pushes the door open and steps in, ready rush to Taeyong's room.

But he doesn't.

Because Taeyong is right there, surrounded by roses and petals and candlelight. There's a fort set up in the living room, the opening credits of his favorite documentary on pause on the TV, the smell of freshly made dinner and popcorn wafting through the air.

"What the hell is going on?" Doyoung asks, eyebrows pinched. "You said you needed me for something. What is—"

"I do need you, Doie. I've always needed you," Taeyong interrupts, stepping closer to take Doyoung's hand in his. "I needed you when we were freshmen in high school, when I was new and people wouldn't leave me alone until you came to my rescue. I needed you when we were seniors, when I was worried about going to uni and you made sure I didn't burn out. I needed you when we were in uni, when I was sad and lonely and heartbroken and you drove all the way to my dorm on a Thursday night because you just knew something was wrong. I needed you when we were in grad school, when I was overwhelmed by all my responsibilities and you held me all night and reminded me to breathe.

"I've always needed you, Doie. I needed you then, I need you now, and I just know I'm going to keep needing you in the future." Doyoung stares at him, eyes wide and shining with tears Taeyong knows he's trying to hold in. With a deep breath, Taeyong keeps going. "I keep thinking about everything we've been through, all the times you were there for me and supported me and held me up when I couldn't stand on my own two feet. Thank you, Kim Doyoung. I wouldn't have made it this far without you. Thank you."

A beat passes. Silence.

Then Doyoung begins to weep, pulling Taeyong into his arms and sobbing on his shoulder. "You fucking asshole," he cries. "I thought something was wrong, you jerk. You can't use the code to go soft on me! What the fuck? I thought something happened to you!"

"Something _did_ happen to me!"

"What?" Doyoung pulls away, cheeks stained with tears as he stares at Taeyong with slight panic. "What happened?"

"A sudden realization of how in love I am with you," says Taeyong, unable to hide the joy he feels in his heart now that he's saying it all out loud. "I had to tell you as soon as possible. This can't wait."

"I'm really going to murder you, Lee Taeyong," Doyoung huffs, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand, a smile slowly spreading on his lips. "It took you long enough."

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](http://twitter.com/scammerjaem)   
>  [cc](http://curiouscat.me/angstonly)


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